Embrace the Night Read online

  “You helped him leave?” I grabbed Casanova again, despite his curse.

  “I pointed him in the right direction; I didn’t personally escort him out. And what difference does it make?”

  “You have to stop him!”

  “I’ll make you a deal. Get those urchins of yours to undo whatever they did wrong this time and I’ll have the mage detained. I’ve got a near panic going on in the lobby!”

  “Fine.” I doubted the low-level vamps Casanova employed would have much luck stopping a war mage, but maybe they could slow him down long enough for Pritkin to locate him.

  Casanova called security on his cell phone while we navigated the dark stairs. It turned out that he hadn’t been exaggerating the situation in the lobby. A few security people had flashlights that they were waving around like strobes over the frightened crowd, while others yelled contradictory instructions through bullhorns. A bunch of gamers were playing guitars and singing in the corner, in the faint glow of the lighters they held over their heads. I thought I recognized the tune, but the words seemed to be something about the nazgul. And the pterodactyl things were watching it all out of bright, hungry eyes.

  I scanned the room for Nick, but it was really difficult to make out faces. Casanova started toward the security team, most of whom were over by the moat. Boats poled along by Charons in black robes and death masks usually ferried people back and forth between the entrance and the lobby, but they were beached due to the lack of light, and the drawbridge that served as an alternate entrance appeared to be stuck in the open position.

  A couple of impatient types had decided to try wading the moat and found it deeper than they’d expected. The security detail was fishing them out, while preventing anyone else from following. And another guard was forcibly restraining someone who already had one foot in the water.

  Someone who looked an awful lot like Nick.

  “There!” I pointed, but Casanova was ahead of me. A gesture sent two of his vampire guards to help the beleaguered human, but Nick somehow dodged them, making for the backstage areas and, presumably, the employee exits.

  “Tell security to close off the exits,” I told Casanova.

  “Which ones?”

  “All of them!” I wasn’t taking a chance on Nick doubling back, something that would be all too easy in this crowd.

  Casanova got busy on the phone as I tried to keep track of Nick in the squirming, flickering mass of humanity. For five long minutes I lost sight of him; then one of the pterodactyl things screeched and I looked skyward. I grabbed Casanova’s arm and pointed. “Look!”

  Several security men’s flashlights followed my gesture. The twin beams illuminated the figure of a man, who looked like he was somehow walking on thin air. Casanova blinked. “What’s that crazy bastard think he’s doing?”

  “What is he standing on?” I hadn’t thought the mages numbered levitation in their repertoire.

  “The catwalks. They’re painted the same color as the ceiling so nobody notices them. We use them for making repairs.” Casanova grabbed a flashlight from the nearest guard and shone it between a maze of glittering rock formations. I still couldn’t see what he was talking about, but Nick was obviously standing on something.

  “Why is he up there?”

  “He’s probably trying to make it out onto the roof, assuming he doesn’t break his fool neck first.” Casanova cursed. “My insurance premiums are going to skyrocket if he falls.”

  “Why would he?”

  “Because the catwalks also serve as support for the larger stalactites, with the rocks protruding right down through the middle of them!”

  Nick had stopped in front of a rock that looked too wide to reach around, and I was sure he wouldn’t make it. But I should have known better. Nick might look harmless, but he was a war mage. Luckily, so was Pritkin, and he’d seen him, too. The flashlights illuminated a bright blond head scrambling to catch up, but Nick had a good lead. He thrust a dagger into the side of the fake rock, making an extra foothold for himself, and used it to hop around the obstacle.

  “Can he really get to the roof?” I demanded, clutching Casanova’s arm tight enough to make the beam wiggle. I knew he couldn’t reach the level with the turrets, where I’d been two weeks ago, but the lower one over the entrance would be even better from his perspective. It was tantalizingly close to the ground.

  “If he gets all the way across, yes. There’s an access hatch onto the roof for repairing the main sign.” Casanova glanced at me. “How badly do you want him down?”

  “Bad. Why?”

  “Because some of my guards are armed.”

  “You can’t start shooting in a roomful of people!”

  “We can pass it off as part of the show,” he said, gesturing around. Most of the trapped tourists had decided that this must be unscheduled entertainment and had paused their complaints long enough to crane their necks upwards, straining to see through the gloom.

  “Will you pass it off if someone dies? Bullets ricochet!”

  “My boys are good shots.”

  “And he’s a mage. None will get through his shields. Can you get someone outside, to intercept him?”

  Before Casanova could answer, Nick spotted his pursuer and threw a spell, just as Pritkin was edging around the fat stalactite. It hit the mass of fake rock dead on, causing it to crack down the middle and sending a rain of plaster into the watching crowd. That was followed by a shower of sparks as Pritkin and Nick simultaneously threw spells at each other. The audience cheered, but it was the final straw for the pterodactyl things, who launched themselves into the air and went screeching toward the fight.

  “Casanova!”

  “I can’t call them off—don’t even ask.”

  “What do you mean? Are you in charge around here or aren’t you?!”

  One of the creatures targeted Pritkin, clawing and pecking at his shields. The other creature went after Nick, but he fired a spell at it that singed one of its batlike wings, sending it wheeling away over the crowd. It was soon back for more, but in the meantime he’d made it to the next stalactite.

  “Not when it comes to security,” Casanova said rapidly. “The wards are designed to act independently. There’s nothing I can do as long as those two keep tossing magic around!”

  I bit my lip and watched the creature attacking Pritkin make a vicious jab with its beak. It penetrated halfway into his shields, then stopped as its head became stuck. It began thrashing around, forcing him to drop to his knees and clutch the beam to keep from being pulled off by its attempt to free itself. Meanwhile, Nick was getting much too close to the exit.

  Pritkin managed to focus despite the beating he was taking from the giant wings, and threw a spell at Nick, collapsing the section of catwalk he was standing on. It fell into the moat with a splash and a sizzle, sending up a cloud of steam in its wake and barely missing a Charon that had been a little late docking his boat. I looked up in time to see that Nick had somehow snagged the next section. He pulled himself onto it while fending off his creature with a few more spells, heedless of the crowd watching raptly below.

  Pritkin was handicapped by trying not to hit the crowd, but Nick felt no such compunction. Sooner or later, he was going to miss and send a deadly spell into the mass of tourists. I couldn’t do anything for Pritkin; I wasn’t a mage. But I could possibly get the lights back on and help security clear the area.

  “Let’s go.” I tugged on Casanova. “The kids are probably in the kitchens.”

  He grabbed me by the arm and we muscled our way to the stairs, since the elevators weren’t working. At the bottom we paused by a stained-glass window where a little weak light from outside was leaking in. It didn’t help visibility much; I was mostly looking at a long black tunnel where I should have been able to see bright medieval banners overhead, a line of armor going down either side and the room-service kitchens off to the left.

  I’d started toward the kitchen door anyway when, out of the dar
kness, there was a low, slow hiss, like scales sliding against the floor. I froze. I didn’t know what it was, but that sort of sound is never good. It coiled along my nerves, making the hairs stand up on my arms.

  “I’ve seen this movie,” Casanova said tightly. “Everyone dies in the end.”

  “Shut up!”

  “You don’t understand—I know that slither!”

  A black mist began sending dark fingers running across the stone of the floor. And everywhere they touched, what little light there was went out. “What is it?”

  I could hear him swallow. “The darkness isn’t caused by the absence of light, but by the presence of something else. Something that, believe me, you don’t want to see.”

  Yeah, except that dying in the dark didn’t sound all that appealing, either. I grabbed him before he could get away, crushing that expensive sleeve ruthlessly. “What. Is. It?”

  “I told you—”

  “Casanova! There is a very good chance there are children down here. What the hell is out there?”

  He didn’t answer, just shone the flashlight at the ceiling. The walls in this section were dark wood, but the ceiling was painted white, picked out along the edges in gold scrollwork. The thing was hard to see, as it was also bloodless white. It was clinging to the ceiling upside down, head cocked to one side, watching. It was like a parody of a child, small and half formed, glistening wetly across all its surfaces. It looked blind, with no glimmer of eyes under the skin stretched tight across its sockets, but its head turned toward me unerringly.

  “Cassie.” It spoke in Pritkin’s voice. It sounded sympathetic. “If you don’t run, I’ll kill you quickly, and I’ll leave the kids alone.”

  I swallowed the noise that wanted to crawl out of my throat and made a quick weapons assessment. Mine consisted wholly of a couple of misbehaving knives, since I’d lost my purse somewhere along the line. Not good. But there was a whole line of weapons in the hands of the suits of armor lining the corridor. They looked as lifeless and empty as museum pieces, but were actually part of the security system.

  “Casanova,” I said very carefully. “Order the guards to attack it.”

  “I can’t.” He shook his head frantically, looking more panicked than I’d ever seen him.

  “What do you mean, you can’t? If you let me die, Mircea will kill you.”

  “And if you aid her, I will,” the thing on the ceiling said, as if it was part of the conversation. “It is difficult, serving two masters, isn’t it? I warned you it would become awkward one day.”

  “Two?” I finally got it. “That’s Rosier, isn’t it?” Casanova nodded dumbly. “You’re not supposed to be back yet,” I told the demon accusingly. Hadn’t Pritkin said it would take at least a couple of days for him to recover? It hadn’t been that long, had it? With all the time-hopping, I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t think so.

  The thing tilted its head the other way—why, I don’t know. It didn’t have any eyes so it couldn’t have been to see any better. “Well, I’m not at my best,” it finally said.

  I looked over at the twitching Casanova, who was going to collapse at any moment. “Go,” I told him. “Help Pritkin. Do not let Nick get out of here and do not let him talk to anyone. I’ll deal with this.”

  “You’ll deal with this?” Casanova stared at me with no expression, like he just couldn’t find one that fit.

  “Yeah.” I looked up again. It was gruesome, but it was small. I decided I could take it. “I already killed you once.”

  “Ah, yes, so you did. But then, that would be why I brought friends,” it said mildly. Casanova fled.

  “Friends?”

  “Servants of a colleague who owes me a favor. My boys are good for many things, but killing is not really their forte. Now, usually I would make this relatively quick,” it continued. “But after the other day, I am afraid I will have to break my habit. A little matter of prestige. You know how it is.”

  “Sure.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something small and glowy emerge from the stairs.

  “Now hold still, because this is going to hurt like a bitch.”

  “Right back at you,” the pixie said, and threw her tiny sword like an arrow. It hit the thing square in the not-eyes, provoking a shriek of mingled pain and rage.

  I twisted my neck around and saw Françoise running down the stairs toward me, looking more than a little frazzled. Her dress was torn in three different places, one of which was oozing a widening stain, and her eyes were huge. Radella, darting around in the air in front of me, looked okay, however. Human weapons might not be able to hurt a demon, but it looked like the Fey had more luck.

  I turned around to face Rosier, feeling somewhat calmer. Only to see pieces of the darkness peeling away from the floor, from the corners and from the walls, all along the corridor. I still couldn’t focus on any of them, but I got the feeling that Casanova had probably been right: I didn’t want to.

  “Uh-oh,” the pixie said unhelpfully.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, and Françoise broke into a rapid stream of French that I didn’t have the time or the ability to translate. “Radella!”

  “We’ve been trying to get to the children.” She gestured toward the end of the hall. “That thing has half of them trapped in the kitchen.”

  “Are they all right?”

  “For now. The staff is protecting them, but they won’t hold. Not if those things attack.”

  “But Fey magic works on demons!”

  Radella zoomed in front of my face, her own furious. “Yes, and if I had warriors to work with instead of cooks, it might even be enough! As it is—”

  “What are you saying? You can’t break through?”

  “We stormed the back door. I managed to get past their forces, but the witch almost got herself killed. And I can’t do much alone.”

  Billy Joe floated down through the ceiling. “We got another problem,” he said quickly, not even pausing to chew me out for leaving him with this mess. “Our buddy over there sent some of his boys upstairs. They’re there now, with the kids. And I have no power against demons, Cass.”

  He, Françoise and Radella were all looking at me, and after a stunned second I realized that they were waiting for instructions. Like I was supposed to know how to get us out of this. And Agnes would have, I thought grimly. Maybe even Myra would have had a few ideas. But I had nothing.

  “I have a proposition for you, pixie,” Rosier gasped. I looked up to see that he had worked Radella’s sword loose. What was left of it dropped to the ground with a clatter. It wasn’t much more than a hilt—the rest appeared to have been eaten away, like with acid. “Leave now and I will waive retribution for your misguided actions.”

  “I may have a better offer,” I said quickly.

  Radella looked from the remains of her sword to me. “It better be a good one, human!”

  “How would you like to have the rune? Not just to cast, but permanently? It only takes a month to recharge after each use, so you could have as many children as you want. Your friends could even…”

  I trailed off because she had gone motionless, as if all the bones had suddenly liquefied inside her skin. She looked for a minute like she’d had the air knocked out of her, but then she licked her lips, slow and precise, and looked at me with a drowning expression in those huge lavender eyes. “What do you want?” It came out as a whisper.

  “Find a way to get the kids out and it’s yours.”

  “Are you deaf? I already told you, there is no way!”

  “Can the demons follow you into Faerie?”

  “What? No! Or if they did, they wouldn’t last long,” she said with an evil smile. “But how does that—”

  “Go back into the kitchen and summon the portal. Take the kids into Faerie, then return with them once it’s safe.”

  “And how do I do that? Even assuming I could break through the lines again, I’d need a death to power the portal. And your ghost told me—”
/>   “You’ll have it.”

  “What?”

  “No way, Cass. Stop right there.” For once Billy sounded deadly serious. Which meant he was quicker on the uptake than Radella.

  “There will be a death,” I told her. One way or the other. “Does it matter which of us it is, me or that thing?”

  The pixie was silent for a moment. “No. The spell won’t care.”

  Françoise had been looking back and forth between the two of us, trying to keep up with the conversation. “What? What is this? What is ’appening?”

  “In a minute. Radella, did you see a little girl in the kitchen—blond, brown eyes, about five?”

  “There were several younger children. I didn’t—”

  “Clutching a bear? She never goes anywhere without it.”

  “No.”

  I nodded. It was the first good news I’d heard. “Billy, I need you to find a way out of the casino for the kids upstairs. One of them, a little girl, is clairvoyant. She should be able to hear you. Get the kids out into the open. Into direct sunlight.” Pritkin had said that worked on most demons. I only hoped these were among that number.

  “Right. I’ll go play with the kiddies while you sacrifice yourself. Not happening.”

  “I don’t have time to argue!” I said, tugging off his necklace and putting it into Françoise’s hands. “Give this to the little clairvoyant. I think her name is Jeannie,” I told her. She took it, but looked very confused; I wasn’t sure how much of this she was able to understand.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Billy demanded.

  “If I don’t make it, she’ll look after you.”

  “That’s not the point!” he said, more angry than I’d ever seen him.

  “Billy will find you a way out,” I told Françoise. “Look for three old crones—they will probably be in the lobby.” Casanova had said the Graeae were drawn to trouble. I just hoped they hadn’t decided to take the day off. “They’ll help you get to the kids.”

  “A ghost, three old women and a witch who has already fought us and lost,” Rosier mused. “Personally, I would reconsider, pixie.”